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The Id and The Odyssey: Episode 123

The Common

Rich
was disappointed; he had to work the next Saturday. He wanted to go
to New York, because Dennis was having his first book signing there.
However, the next weekend he was going to be in Boston and Rich made
plans to be there.

Rich rose early
Saturday and arrived in Boston before 10:00 AM. Dennis’s signing
was from ten till twelve and one until three. It included a ten
minute reading every hour.

Dennis looked
rather scholarly. His hair laid leisurely on his head like he gave it
little attention and it fell into a wonderful crop styled only by
nature. His tie was loosened and the top button of his shirt was
opened. He wore a light corduroy jacket with elbow patches. They were
crumpled enough to look as though he just finished writing the great
American novel, a working writer not a golden boy. Two freelance
writers interviewed him and snapped some pictures. Dennis at first
seemed uncomfortable about the whole situation, but adjusted nicely.

Rich sat in the
corner of the reading room at the bookstore. There was a sort of
pride he developed over being there with Dennis. He knew Dennis as
the writer who struggled and now having an opportunity to show his
wares.

Dennis signed the
last book and raised his eyebrows at Rich and mouthed, "Let's
go."

He thanked the
store owner and signed another twenty-five books and Rich and Dennis
darted out onto the street.

"Let's take
a walk," Dennis said. “I like walking in Boston.”

"Sure,"
Rich said. "How's it going so far?"

"They book
is selling good in New York," Dennis said. "I've gotten a
couple of favorable reviews. The readings were attended by about
twenty to thirty people at each session and sold about seventy-five
books at the signing."

"How's
Peggy?" Rich asked.

“She's in New
York, but will be back in Maine Wednesday,” Dennis said. “She has
to finish some work which will take her to the end of September. She
has two galleries in New York that will display her work, one in
Chicago and another in San Francisco. She said she's made her last
vase. She wants to open up a gallery at home. I hate signings. My
publisher sent me to a few so I would get the idea. Some writers seem
to like them. I'm a writer not a signer."

"What is
ahead for you?" Rich asked.

"I may go to
the west coast in mid October. My publisher and agent thinks that
will be a good time to hit the coast with a few signings and then do
a few in the Midwest on the way back." Dennis took a deep
breath. “I don’t want to get my hopes up, but my agent thinks
there is some interest in a studio buying the movie rights.”

“Dennis, that
will be great!” Rich said. “Man, I am so happy for you.”

"Well so far
this has been all about Peg and me, what about you?"

“Don’t be so
modest,” Rich said. “Friends are for bragging to and they don’t
talk behind your back for doing it.”

“No,” Dennis
said, “I’m afraid if I say too much I’ll talk it away. I’ll
begin to see and hope things that aren’t there. These things seem
to take on a life of there own. So let’s talk about you; that seems
more plausible.”

"What about
me?" Rich said.

"Have you
set a date for you departure?" Dennis said.

"In all
likelihood it will be September 1st," Rich said. "That's
pretty much etched in stone. All though a few weeks ago I was ready
to tell Sam where to go and take off."

Dennis laughed
heartily. "Sam told me he was coming down hard on you to try to
make you a better writer."

"What!"
Rich said.

"He told me
he wanted you to write with some passion, not like the noodle heads
that come out of college these days," Dennis said.

They strolled for
another block talking about the weather and writing. They crossed a
street and wandered into a common with freshly cut grass and dotted
with maples.

Dennis' tone
lowered. "Let's sit for a while," he gestured to a park
bench.

They sat and
Dennis leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked
across the street at a row of apartments shaded by oaks and maples. A
soft breeze parted his hair. "What you saw last Summer with
Peggy…"

Rich interrupted,
"I'm not going to talk about it."

"I'm not
asking you to," Dennis said. "All I want to say is thanks
for keeping it to yourself and for not telling me."

Rich gripped
Dennis’s shoulder and said, "I'm glad Peggy told you."

"How are
things with you two?" Rich ask.

"Improving,"
Dennis said. "I'm taking it slow and so is she. I think we're
going to Spain and then to France to ski this winter. We talked about
it last summer, but we didn't want the excitement of a trip to be
misinterpreted as love and commitment. That's why honeymoons are
overrated. Some get married just for the great honeymoon. You got to
think beyond that. I think honeymoons should be given only after five
years of successful marriage." He leaned against the back of the
bench. "What about you Rich?" You ever going to get
married? Do you have a girl friend?"

"My life is
so busy at this point, Dennis,” Rich said. “I can’t imagine
going off sailing for a couple of years having a woman with me
physically or emotionally. And I can’t imagine settling down or
becoming attached to someone and all the time be thinking about my
voyage. Logically one has to be put aside for the other for the time
being. I can’t get a woman and let her go, but I can sail and get
that over with.”

“Actually,”
Dennis said, “Peggy and I have talked about doing what you are
doing. Not to rob you of your thunder, but we wondered about such a
trip; she could sketch it or perhaps paint it and I could write about
it. It would make a handsome illustrated book.”

“Makes me want
to find and artist to go with me,” Rich chuckled. “You have a
great idea. If it doesn’t happen until after my journey is finished
I’ll be glad to help you out, you know some advice.”

“What will you
do after your trip?” Dennis said.

“I’m not
sure,” Rich said.

“I assume
you’ll have the newspaper,” Dennis said.

“No,” Rich
said. There was a pause.

“That sounded
pretty resolute,” Dennis said.

“I didn’t
want it to sound that way,” Rich said, “but it is resolute.”

There was another
pause. Only the breeze through the trees and the sound of birds were
heard. A distant car horn, a few shut car doors, and sounds of
traffic filled the background.

“I’d like to
say something quite confidential,” Dennis said. “And I’m
certain you are such a man I can tell this to and it will go no
further than this common and god’s ears.”

From Kenton Lewis: You Must Read This First To Know What The Heck Goes On Here

This site contains mostly fiction. Currently a novel is posted every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday entitled Beyond Beyond. It is broken down into short episodes between two and four pages each. Thus, if you enter on anything other than episode 1, it would be good the scroll down to find previous episodes.

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This Is He

Taken shortly after my beheading. I refused to give up coffee. "Not from my cold dead hands!"